The Road to Paris
by Joseph Haney
Summary: If you thought that Peter's story ended when he was loaded onto that truck, you're wrong. "Swing Kids" was actually only the first volume of Peter's adventure. This is part 2 Swing Kids/Casablanca crossover .
1. The Camp

Ok so this idea was bouncing around in my head for a while and I finally decided to let it out. As the description says, this is the second part of a trilogy ("Swing Kids" was the first part) and is a cross over between the movies "Swing Kids" and "Casablanca" For those of you unfamiliar with the movie "Casablanca" I'll give you a crash course.

The movie is set in the city of Casablanca in Morocco and focuses mainly on a café owner named Rick Blaine. He's a hard man, who "sticks his neck out for nobody." That is, until Ilsa Lund, the girl he loved in Paris (before it fell to the Nazis) shows up—with her revolutionist husband, Czech Victor Lazlo.

Basically that's all you need to know for now. The only aspects of that movie that are in play here are the characters of Victor and Ilsa, and some of the events in Paris. If you want to know more, rent the movie. It will come out more in the second part of this story.

This story starts out a few weeks after Peter was arrested, and the majority takes place during the spring and early summer of 1940.

Enjoy

Chapter 1

The guard's whistle forced Peter from his sleep as it had for the past two weeks. Moaning slightly he turned over and got out of bed, shivering against the cold of the early morning. "It is way too early for this," he thought as he fought to keep his eyes open. He stood up--and was promptly kicked in the head as the man who slept above him swung his legs over the edge of his bed. Peter shot him a look of disgust and made his way toward the door.

As Peter trudged out of the bunkhouse with the other prisoners, he tried to hold on to the last fragments of his dream. He was back in Hamburg on a sunny summer day. He was walking with Evey and he saw his mother and Willy in the distance waving at him from the steps outside their building. He couldn't remember details, such as what he and Evey talked about, or what his mother was wearing, but it didn't matter. It was a happy dream and that was all that mattered.

He was stirred from these thoughts as he was rushed along toward the convoy of trucks that were waiting to take them to the mines. As he fell in line with the rest of the prisoners, he tried to remember more of his dream. He didn't want to lose the feeling it had left him when he woke up. Before he could find the good feelings again, he bumped into the man in front of him.

"Watch where you're going!" the man shouted. "Bad enough I have to get walked over by the guards; I don't need it from you too."

"Sorry," Peter said quietly. "I didn't mean to—"

"Stop talking! Load up!" One of the guards shouted, shoving Peter toward the nearest truck.

Ten minutes later, as the truck began to roll out of the compound, Peter gave up trying to remember the dream. With a sigh he sat back, got as comfortable as possible, and cried himself back to sleep.

Three hours later, Peter woke up. Whether it was from the truck screeching to a halt, or the guards yelling that actually did it, he wasn't sure. Either way it didn't matter. He quickly stood up and followed his fellow prisoners out of the truck.

As soon as his feet hit the ground, a pick axe was forced into his hands and he was shoved toward the hole in the side of the mountain. Thus began another day of endless work.

Peter had no idea what metal they were pulling out of this particular mine or what it was being made into in the factories, nor did he much care about any of that. He was simply determined to try to keep out of trouble and thus make his stay in this hell hole as bearable as possible.

As he dumped a load of rock into the cart for the people down the line to sort out, a commotion erupted further down the tunnel. Peter and his fellow workers stopped working to see what was going on.

It didn't take long for the situation to become obvious. Peter saw the man he had bumped into had thrown down his pick and had attacked a guard. The guard now had the man pinned down and was punching him at will.

As the blows fell, Peter suddenly felt a surge of anger. Before he could think, he dropped his pick and rushed toward the men. He caught the guard by surprise and easily tackled him, knocking him off of the man, but the crash landing knocked the wind out of him. Before he could recover, the guard had pinned him down and was pressing his night stick onto his throat.

Suddenly, Peter was back outside the Bismarck with Thomas. As he felt the life drain out of him, he saw Thomas laughing evilly as the life slowly left him. As he watched, the face melted into that of the guard, and with a last burst of strength, he drove his knee up as hard as he could.

Then he could breathe again. As his eyes readjusted to the dim light of the mine, he saw a crowd of people gathered around staring in silence at him. He sat up and saw that the guard was lying on the ground next to him holding his crotch. It didn't take him long to figure out what had happened. He quickly stood up and looked for the first man the guard had been beating up.

He saw him standing by the back wall. Their eyes met and Peter thought he saw a slight smile cross the man's face.

Before he could ponder this, a shrill whistle filled the tunnel and the crowd quickly dispersed. Peter walked back to his pick axe and tried to act as though nothing had happened. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw shadows moving down the tunnel towards them. _Great,_ he thought. _The last thing I need is some Nazi officer to come down here and start asking questions._

Sure enough, the Captain in charge of the camp was leading several men into the mine, at least one of whom was an officer of higher rank. And the first thing they saw was the guard who was finally starting to get up.

End Chapter 1

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	2. Escape

Chapter 2

Fortunately for Peter, the guard's pride kept him from telling the other guards what had happened to him. Unfortunately, it didn't stop the guard from making Peter's life miserable. Years later, when looking back on the next three months, Peter wasn't sure why the guard didn't shoot him. It wasn't like there would have been an inquiry into the death of a prisoner. But Peter wasn't one to dismiss good fortune, if you could call living through endless days of repeated abuse and torture, watching fellow prisoners die, and starving to death yourself good fortune.

He saw very little of the man he had saved. He passed him on occasion while working, but never for more than a few seconds. At first Peter tried to get his attention, but after a while he gave up. Whoever the man was, he seemed to be avoiding him, which Peter could understand. The guards were constantly on the lookout for anything that might be evidence of a conspiracy among the prisoners, so the less contact the two of them had, the better it would be for both of them.

So apart from the usual abuse, the next three months passed without event. Then out of the blue one day, the trucks didn't take them to the mines, but to a railroad crossing where a train was waiting. When Peter saw this, he began to feel uneasy. Unannounced changes in plans were never good in this world. The times Peter had seen the guards pull people out of the mines and load them onto the trucks before the day was over, the prisoners were never seen again.

Peter wasn't given much time to dwell on this before the guards began to herd the prisoners toward the boxcars on the train. They crowded in as best they could, but trying to fit nearly a thousand prisoners into one boxcar was a lot to ask for. Peter, being one of the first prisoners into the car, was forced into the corner by the flood of bodies. When the car was as full as it was going to get, the guards closed the door.

About an hour later (at least it felt like an hour; it could have been only five minutes) the train began to move. Peter, trying not to think about what was waiting when the train reached its destination, made himself as comfortable as possible.

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The sudden wave of murmurs that began to surge throughout the crowded boxcar told Peter that something was happening, a fear that was confirmed when he felt the train lurch to a stop. He wasn't sure how long they had been in the car, but it felt like weeks.

The men closest to the small windows were giving reports to the other prisoners. "There's nothing out there, only trees," One of them said. "We must be in some kind of forest."

Another voice, from the other side of the car, said, "I see nothing but trees also. And also the sun is setting."

"Why do you think we've stopped?" someone asked. Peter had his suspicions, but he didn't dare say them out loud for fear that they would come true. Apparently everyone else felt the same way, because no one said anything.

A few minutes later, the door on the boxcar was opened, and a voice said, "Everybody out. Five minutes to stretch your legs." Peter looked around the car as about half of the men moved toward the door—and the other half stayed in place, dead. It was all Peter could do to keep from throwing up right then and there. As soon as his feet touched the ground he ran for the forest and ducked behind the nearest tree.

As he leaned against the tree, trying to catch his breath, he felt a hand on his shoulder. He spun around—and saw that it was the man whose life he had saved in the minds three months earlier.

"You—, "Peter began, but the man clamped his hand over his mouth and leaned in close, his beard tickling the side of Peter's face. "If you want to live," he whispered, "follow me."

Peter hesitated, not sure what the man was planning to do. But, he decided, that whatever it was, it was a better fate than the guards had prepared for him. He nodded and the man removed his hand from his mouth.

"Okay," the man said, glancing around. "Follow me, and stay low."

Having grown up in the city, Peter had never cared much for nature. But with the sun still in the sky, he was grateful for the thickness of the forest as the two of them crept along from tree to tree.

Suddenly, the sounds of machine guns filled the forest. Peter turned to look, but the man grabbed his arm. "There's nothing you can do for them," he said. "Keep moving." Peter nodded and pushed through the forest after him.

After about five minutes the guns stopped. The silence was overwhelming. So much so that when Peter stepped on a twig, the snap seemed to echo forever. The man froze and motioned for Peter to do the same. It wasn't long before he could hear the guards moving through the woods toward them.

Peter glanced at the man and he motioned for him to stay still. As the guards got closer, it was all he could do to keep himself from making a break for it. He kept his eyes on the man, waiting for a signal of some kind.

Then as suddenly as the machine gun fire had started, the guard movement stopped. The man raised his eyebrows in confusion. He motioned at Peter to stay down and he slowly stood and peeked around the tree. There was silence for a few seconds—and then a short burst of machine gun fire ripped into the tree.

Peter heard the guard running toward them. As he rounded the tree, the man punched him in the face. The guard dropped like a rock. "Well that ought to take care of him," the man said. Just then they heard the rest of the guards running toward them.

"Run!" the man shouted as he took off into the woods. Peter didn't hesitate and as he ran after the man, he heard the guards shouting commands to each other.

Peter tried to keep up with the man, but that was easier said than done. He hadn't gone on hundred yards yet and he felt as though his lungs were going to burst at any minute. His only saving grace was that he had a head start. After climbing a particularly tall hill, though, he was ready to stop running and surrender his fate to the fancy of the guards. Then, as though fate had other plans for him, he tripped and tumbled down the steep far side of the hill.

Peter gasped as the air was knocked out of him. It took several minutes of deep breaths to get enough air back in his lungs to allow him to move again. He stood slowly and saw a cave about 50 yards away. Slowly, he began to make his way toward the cave.

He hadn't realized how weak he really was, but that run, though brief, combined with the fall, had drained him of most of his energy. When he reached the cave, he crawled in and as soon as he was back as far as he could go, he lay down. The last thing he thought before he gave into exhaustion was, _I wonder where that man went._


	3. Victor Laszlo

Author's note: OK, I really want some feed back on this, so until I get a review from someone other than SwingGirlAtHeart (who is still welcome to put her two cents in), I'm not going to update this story. I'd prefer something a little deeper than "Good job, keep it up" so say what you liked (or didn't, I can take criticism). And until further notice, this will apply to all future chapters. And on with the show...

Chapter 3

When Peter awoke he noticed two things at the same time. The first thing was that he was laying on something soft. The second was that his chest hurt. He propped himself up on his elbows to get a better view of the room. It wasn't easy. The pain in his chest got worse when he moved.

Looking around he saw that he was no longer in the cave. He was on some sort of bed in a small room. The only furniture in the room, apart from the bed, was a small table next to the bed with a burning candle on it, and a chair in the corner. The man who had saved his life was sleeping in the chair. He was no longer in the thin gray shirt and pants that comprised the prisoner's uniform, but instead he was in a brown suit.

From the little light that the candle gave off, Peter could see a closed door beside the man. _Where am I? _he wondered.

He felt his chest, trying to determine why it hurt. Wincing in pain, he realized that the fall had done more than just knock the wind out of him. It also cracked a rib or two. _Great,_ he thought. _Just what a man on the run needs._

A sudden noise from the corner where the man was stirred him from these thoughts. He raised his head slightly and saw that the man was awake. A smile crept across the man's face as he saw Peter was awake as well.

"You gave me quite a scare when we lost each other in the woods. It was only by pure luck that I saw you duck into that cave. I had stopped to catch my breath and I saw you fall. I wasn't sure you were going to make it to the cave, you were stumbling so much."

"Where am I?" Peter asked.

"In a friend's house," the man replied. "He helped me bring you here. That was nearly two days ago."

"Two days?" Peter said, surprised. "I must have been more exhausted than I thought."

"That doesn't surprise me. I've spent more time asleep than awake since I've been here. My name's Victor, by the way. Victor Laszlo."

"Peter Müller," Peter replied. "I'd offer you my hand, but it hurts to move."

"Well, you cracked at least two ribs, so I understand that. You probably won't be in any shape to travel for a few days."

"You look fine," Peter said. "What's keeping you here?"

After a brief pause, Victor said, "Well, with the Nazis combing the area looking for us, I figured it was best to lay low for a few days. Besides, I wanted to make sure you were okay."

Peter nodded. "I guess I owe you for saving my life."

Victor shook his head. "I wouldn't have been around to do it if you hadn't stepped in with that guard a few months ago. We're even."

Peter smiled. "I guess we are."

Just then, the door opened and a girl, who Peter guessed was about twelve or thirteen, came in carrying a tray of food. When she saw Peter, she said, "Oh, you're awake. I'll tell mother to fix you something to eat." She handed the tray to Victor and hurried out of the room forgetting to close the door behind her. Through it, Peter saw shelves full of jars of food. _The cellar, _he realized. It was then that Peter realized just how hungry he was.

As Victor stood to close the door, Peter sat up, wincing at the pain in his chest. The two men sat in silence for a few minutes until the girl came back with a bowl of soup for Peter. After she left, Victor broke the silence. "Don't try to eat all of that at once or you'll make yourself sick. Take it slow."

After nearly three months on scarce portions of moldy bread and dirty water, the soup was like manna from heaven. Peter was tempted to dive in and drain the bowl, but he could sense that Victor was right. So he slowly took a small spoonful and ate it. They ate in silence for a few minutes before Victor again spoke.

"So, Peter, do you have any idea as to where you're going?"

Peter set the bowl of soup on the table next to the bed. "No," he said. "I hadn't even thought about where I might go if I escaped from the camp, as it seemed so unlikely. All I know is that I can't go back home."

"And where is that?"

"Hamburg. It's in the north, about a two day trip from Berlin."

Victor nodded. "I know how you feel. I, too, cannot return to my home in Prague."

"You're Czech?" Peter asked in surprise

"Yes. I was taken as far away from the underground movement I was leading as the Nazis could manage. Why they just didn't kill me, I'll never know."

"Where are you going to go now?"

"Paris. I have friends there who can help me get out of Europe and on to America, where I can continue my work against the Nazis. You are welcome to join me, since you have no plans of your own."

Peter didn't respond right away. He had not expected this man to be so willing to help him now, since, by his own admission, they no longer owed each other anything. _On the other hand,_ Peter thought, _I don't have anywhere else to go. I can't go back to Hamburg, and I've never been outside of Germany before, so I don't know anybody else who can help me. _

Victor seemed to sense what he was thinking. He stopped eating and said, "You don't have to decide right now. It will be a few days before I leave, so you can think it over." With that he stood, picked up his tray and Peter's bowl, and left Peter to think over his proposition.

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When Victor returned two hours later, Peter had made up his mind. "I'll go with you to Paris, but I don't want any part of the movement," he said with conviction.

Victor looked a little disappointed, but he nodded. "Get some rest, then," he said. "We'll be leaving in three days." He helped Peter lay down and blew out the candle. It wasn't long before the two of them were asleep again.


	4. Old Friends

It actually took five days for Peter to heal to the point that he was able to travel. Though he didn't say anything, Peter sensed that the delay annoyed Victor, as though he had a schedule to keep. But since he didn't complain, Peter wasn't going to bring it up. Once he was ready, and fitted with a suit that was at least two sizes too big, they set off toward Paris

The days mostly passed without event. They passed most of the time in silence. Every now and then, Victor would ask Peter a question about his life before the camp. His questions focused mainly on his father and Peter answered them the best he could. When he wasn't asking about Peter's father, Victor taught Peter some simple French phrases that would be useful in case they got separated before they got to Paris. Victor offered little information about himself, and Peter was hesitant to ask for it. He wouldn't even say where they were headed.

Fortunately their travel wasn't hindered by the Nazis, mostly because they avoided towns whenever possible and traveled at night when they neared towns and villages. Peter never complained. Whenever he thought he might start, he remembered the conditions of the camp. No matter what he thought of being on the run, it was better than dying in that place.

After nearly four weeks of foraging for food and freezing half to death at night, however, Peter wasn't sure how much more he could take. He wasn't sure which he hated more: The cold or the silence. When your travelling companion doesn't say much, he can be very dull company indeed. He hoped against hope for just one night with other people.

One night, his prayers were answered. After one particularly grueling day of travel, the two of them found themselves standing in a clearing behind a farmhouse. When he saw it, Victor breathed a sigh of relief and hurried to the front door without a word. Peter hurried after him, wondering why the man was so excited.

When he reached the door, Victor knocked three times and then waited for a reply. After a minute, Peter heard someone on the other side of the door knock four times. Victor answered with two slow knocks. Then Peter heard the scraping of a key in the lock and the door swung open, revealing a young woman holding a candle. After Victor identified himself and Peter, she quickly ushered them inside and, after checking to make sure they weren't followed, closed the door and locked it behind her.

She then turned and walked down the dimly lit hallway with two doors on each side and a large room at the end. Peter glanced at Victor who quickly followed her. Questions flooded Peter's mind, but something kept him from asking them.

When they reached the end of the hall, Peter saw that the main part of the house was brightly lit by a fire in a large stone fireplace. The room was decorated sparingly, with only a few photos sitting on the mantel piece. There were two large chairs facing the fire place, where a man stood, smoking on a pipe. He appeared to be several years younger than Victor, but Peter knew that Victor looked older than he actually was due to his time in the camp.

The woman spoke first. "Franz, this is Victor Laszlo and Peter Müller," she said in a low voice.

"Victor I know," Franz replied. "But you, young man," he said looking at Peter. "You I do not know."

"He is a friend of mine," Victor said. "He saved my life in the camp and I am returning the favor."

Franz looked cautiously from one man to the other. "Is this true, son?" he finally asked Peter.

"Yes, sir," Peter said. "I saved his life and now he is saving mine by helping me get out of the country."

Franz nodded and smiled. "In that case, you are most welcome. Any friend of Victor's is a friend of mine and will have a place at my table. Set two more places for dinner, Hilda. Mr. Laszlo and his friend will be joining us." The woman nodded and hurried off to the kitchen. Franz then motioned for Victor and Peter to sit down and had them tell him the story of their escape.

They had just finished when Hilda stuck her head into the room and announced that dinner was ready. The men stood and Franz led the way into the kitchen. The first thing Peter noticed was that the kitchen was almost as empty as the dining room when it came to homey touches. The second thing he noticed was that there were six places set at the table. He wondered who else was coming.

"I did not know you were expecting company," Victor said, voicing Peter's question. "Otherwise we would not have stopped by."

"Oh, I forgot to mention that you are not our only guests. We have two others staying with us tonight as well."

Before Victor could inquire further, a voice from the doorway screamed, "Peter!" Peter barely had time to turn around when he found himself on the receiving end of a rather passionate embrace. When he was able to break free and get a good look at the person hugging him, his heart leapt higher than it had been in almost a year.

"Evey?" he asked, trying to make sure he wasn't dreaming. "Is it really you?"

"Yes it is," she said, hugging him again. This time, fighting back tears, he returned the favor.

"We've been so worried about you," she said after a minute.

"We?" Peter asked. Just then from the doorway he heard someone whistle a tune he thought he would never hear again. _It don't mean a thing, if it ain't got that swing._

Looking away from Evey for the first time, he saw a young man standing in the doorway. Thomas Berger looked the same as the last time Peter had seen him, only he was wearing civilian clothes instead of an HJ uniform.

"Swing Heil, Peter," the blonde youth said with a grin.

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Okay, so same rule—until someone other than SwingGrilAtHeart leaves a review I'm not updating this story.

SO PLEASE REVIEW!!!


	5. Catching up

Chapter 5

A million questions entered Peter's head at once and he was ready to ask them all when Franz said, "There will be plenty of time for the three of you to catch up after dinner. Please, let's eat."

Peter ate as quickly as he thought he could get away with, but dinner still seemed to take forever. The conversation was mostly just small talk. Peter tried to listen for hints about what was happening in Hamburg, but didn't receive any.

When dinner was finally over, Franz asked Hilda to clear the table and then asked Victor to join him in the living room. Taking their cue from him, Thomas, Peter, and Evey left as well.

Peter followed his friends down the hall to a spare bedroom. Once they were inside and Thomas had closed the door, Peter began asking questions. "How are mother and Willi? What's been happening in Hamburg? Where's Otto?"

"Willi and your mother are fine, Peter," Evey said as she sat down on the nearest bed.

"At least they were as of a month ago when we saw them last," Thomas added.

"But what's been happening? I haven't heard any news since I was taken to the prison camp."

"War," Thomas said. "That's what's been happening. Britain and France are in it now. And Hitler is preparing to march on them the way he marched on Poland last September. They could be the next additions to Hitler's empire."

"That must be why Victor is in such a hurry to get to Paris," Peter said. "He wants to reach it before the Nazis do."

"So do we," Evey said. "From Paris, we can get to England or America."

"But what are you doing on the run?" Peter asked, looking from Evey to Thomas. "I thought you at least were safe, Thomas, being a member of the HJ."

"I probably was a little safer than most," Thomas said with a thoughtful smile. "But no one is above the scrutiny of the Nazis. You should know that."

"You see, Peter," Evey said, "After you left, it wasn't enough to be a swing kid anymore. At least it wasn't for us. Otto was happy with it. Perhaps if I had left him alone he'd still be alive."

"You don't know that" Thomas said.

"Wait, Otto's dead?" He slowly sat down on the bed next to Evey. "How? When?"

"We were getting to that," Thomas said. "After you were taken away, Evey got it into her head that thumbing her nose at the Nazis behind their backs wasn't good enough. She wanted to take the fight to them. With some help from Helga, Arvid's girlfriend, she managed to convince Otto to join the cause."

"What cause?"

"The resistance movement," Evey said. "Our world was turning upside down and it wasn't enough to just listen to some records and sneak out at night to go dancing. I got it in my head that we—Otto, Helga, and I—could bring down the Nazis on our own. I even talked Thomas into helping."

"Yeah, I helped alright. I passed along the limited amount of information they allowed me to see and all it did was lead them to you. It was by sheer luck that we made it out. If I hadn't overheard Herr Knopp planning the raid you would have been sent to the camps for sure. Of course," he said looking pointedly at Evey, "given your zeal, you probably would have gotten yourself shot for attacking someone in the Gestapo."

Evey rolled her eyes. "Anyway, one night about three weeks ago as I was getting ready to go to the meeting, Thomas came bursting into my house. When he told me that the Gestapo were planning a city wide operation to crush the movement, I knew I had gotten in over my head. They had somehow learned the names of all of the members of the resistance and they were going to round them all up and send them to the camps. I told my family to leave the city and I hurried out the door. We got to Otto in time, but when we got to Helga's house the Gestapo was already there. Needless to say we didn't stick around."

"What happened then?" Peter asked.

"Well," Thomas said, sitting down next to Peter, "we spent the next two hours running around Hamburg telling any member of the resistance we could find to get out of Hamburg. Otto and I finally convinced Evey that we needed to get out of the city as well. It wasn't easy. As part of his operation, Herr Knopp had the HJ standing guard at the exits to the city. We tried to sneak past them but we got caught. We tried to run, and they opened fire. Evey and I obviously made it. But Otto wasn't so lucky."

Peter couldn't believe it. First his father, then Arvid, and now Otto. It seemed that the Nazis were determined to take away all of the people he cared about one at a time. After a moment, he asked, "How did you find this place? I wouldn't have known about it without Victor."

"Hilda's brother was one of the members of the resistance in Berlin," Evey explained. "He came to Hamburg to speak that night. When we told him about the raid, he told us to make our way south to his sister's cabin. She's helping smuggle refugees out of Germany. He said he'd meet us here in a few weeks, but we've been here nearly two weeks and he hasn't shown up."

"But now that you're here," Thomas said, grinning and clapping Peter on the shoulder, "we can head to Paris together."

Peter looked at Thomas and couldn't help but grin himself. "Why not? I'll tell Victor tomorrow, and we should be able to leave the day after tomorrow."

"Absolutely not," a voice said from the doorway. Victor Laszlo strolled into the room. "I will not allow my plans to be slowed down by the addition of two adolescents."

"Excuse me?" Thomas said, standing up. "I'll have you know—, "he began but Peter grabbed his arm.

"Let me handle this," he said, standing and pushing past Thomas. "Why can't they come along?"

"Because two extra people will slow us down, no matter whose friends they are."

"What is the hurry anyway?" Peter asked. "Paris will still be there whether we make it in two weeks or two months. You have been pushing me to the brink of exhaustion every day for almost a month, and you have offered nothing that would make the journey go any easier. And now that I have found something that will make it go by easier and you tell me that they can't come with us."

"Well if that's your concern," Victor said, his voice rising, "then by all means let us part company here and now. And as to my hurry, in case your friends haven't told you, there is a very real possibility that Paris could fall to the Nazis as early as next month. Forgive me for wanting to get there before then." With that, he turned and started to walk out of the room.

"Wait a minute," Peter called after him. "Are you trying to tell me that you knew about the Nazis marching on France the whole time? I just found out tonight."

"And we didn't hear about it until last week," Thomas said.

"So I want to know where you heard about the Nazi's plans?" Peter asked

Victor froze in the doorway. After a minute he turned and said, "I need to get to Paris as soon as possible. My reasons are my own. I apologize for my outburst. Peter, I promise I will think about letting your friends come along. I will let you know tomorrow. Good night." With that, he turned and walked out of the room.

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*Remember, O loyal readers, someone other than SwingGrilAtHeart must review in order for this story to be updated.


	6. Revelations

Peter walked into the kitchen the next morning, still wearing his traveling clothes, having gotten into the habit of sleeping in them. Victor, also in his travel clothes, was sitting at the table, whispering to Franz. The two men quickly stopped talking and pretended as though nothing was going on.

"Please," Peter said, grabbing a mug from the table and filling it with coffee. "Don't stop talking on my account. Unless, of course, you were talking on my account. Would you like me to leave so you two can finish?"

"That won't be necessary," Victor said. "I want to apologize for my outburst last night. I guess I'm under more stress than I realized. Your friends can come with us to Paris."

Peter looked from one man to the other. "Great. I'm sure Evey and Thomas will be happy to hear it." Draining the cup, he sat it on the table and turn to leave.

"Peter," Victor called after him. Peter turned in the doorway and leaned against the frame, staring at the two men. Victor took a deep breath and continued. "How well do you trust Thomas Berger?"

Peter hesitated. He hadn't really given it any thought. He hadn't seen Thomas in nearly six months and their last meeting had ended with Thomas nearly strangling him in an alleyway. But he had helped Evey and Otto escape rather than rounding them up with the others. And when they were cornered by the HJ, he had run rather than turning them over, which he easily could have done and saved his own skin.

Seeing his hesitation, Victor said, "The reason I ask is that it has come to my attention that he was a member of the Hitler-Jugend in Hamburg."

Peter couldn't help but smile. "If that's your reason for distrusting him, I feel it only fair to tell you that I was a member of the HJ as well." He then went on to tell the story about how he and Thomas had wound up in the HJ—and about their falling out, ending with that night outside the Bismarck.

Victor and Franz exchanged surprised glances. Victor quickly recovered. "Conformists don't get sent to the camps, Peter."

Peter walked over to the table. "Conformists don't end up on the run, either," he said with a grin.

Victor nodded. "True, but you still haven't answered the question. Do you trust Thomas Berger?"

Peter sat down and looked Victor directly in the eye. "If Thomas was still a believer, why didn't he turn Evey in when he had the chance? Why did he decide to go on the run with her?"

"Maybe because he hoped she would lead him to more substantial members of the resistance."

"Like you, I suppose?" Peter asked, leaning closer. "That sounds a little paranoid to me. Is it really so hard for you to trust people at face value?"

"I've been betrayed too many times for me to trust everyone I meet the first time I meet them," Victor snapped

"You trusted me," Peter said. "You could have left me to die in that forest, but you didn't. You went to the trouble to save my life. How is that different from this?"

Victor took a deep breath, and didn't say anything else. Standing, Peter said, "In answer to your original question, I trust Thomas with my life, and with Evey's, and with yours if it would ever come to that. That's what friends do. They trust each other." When Victor remained silent, Peter turned to leave adding , "I'll tell Evey and Thomas you've changed your mind."

Suddenly there was a knock at the door. Peter stopped and turned back to Victor and Franz. Franz stood and walked to the window. After a quick glance out the window, he turned and nodded to Victor, who jumped up and hurried out of the kitchen. Franz turned to Peter and whispered, "Get your friends and hurry to the back room. Go down to the cellar and all the way in the back is a door. Behind the door is a tunnel that will take you in to the woods. Hurry."

"Who's at the door?" Peter asked.

"Two members of the local Gestapo," was Franz's answer.

Without a second thought, Peter turned and sprinted down the hall after Victor, toward the room where he, Thomas, and Evey had spent the night while Victor turned into the room across the hall. When he burst in, Thomas was just pulling his shoes on and Evey hadn't woken up yet. _Thank God they learned how to sleep in their clothes_, Peter thought.

"What's going on?" Thomas asked, seeing the look on Peter's face. Peter didn't answer, but hurried over to Evey's bed and started shaking her. "Come on, Evey. We've got to go," he said as calmly as he could.

"Peter, what's going on?" Thomas asked as Evey started to wake up.

Peter looked up. "The Gestapo's at the door."

"What?" Evey said, suddenly wide awake. "How did they find us?" she said as she grabbed her shoes and began putting them on.

"I think they've come for Victor," Peter said. "But we've all got to get out of here, now."

"I agree," Thomas said. "I don't suppose someone has a plan on how that is going to happen?"

"Franz said that there's a tunnel in the cellar that will take us into the woods. Victor's already over there. Let's go."

"It doesn't seem like your friend Victor has much choice about whether or not we go with him now," Evey said, standing.

"Then I guess it's a good thing he changed his mind," Peter said, checking to make sure the hallway was clear.

The three of them hurried across the hall. Victor and Franz were moving the rug that hid the trapdoor. Peter and Thomas quickly began to help. Once the trapdoor was uncovered, Thomas, who was closest to the door, grabbed the handle and pulled it open.

Franz took a deep breath. "Hilda and I will stall them as best we can. If you hurry, you should make it."

"I seriously doubt that," said a voice from behind them. Just before he turned around, Peter saw the look of shock on Franz's face, and he knew who it was. Hilda stood in the doorway, pointing a pistol at them.


	7. Teamwork

"Hilda…" Franz said, his voice breaking.

"Shut up, you traitor," she snapped.

"What's going on?" Peter whispered to Thomas. "I thought you said she was a member of the resistance."

"I thought she was," Thomas said. "That's what her brother said when we told him to get out of Hamburg."

"My brother," Hilda interrupted, "was a very well placed spy, like me. How do you think the Gestapo learned the names of the members of the resistance in Hamburg?"

"How could you?" Franz said, looking like a dog whose master had just turned on him.

"How could _I_?" she screamed. "How could _you_? How could you betray our Führer?"

"Because that man is the biggest threat to the world since the plague!" Victor said, his voice full of defiance.

"Hear, hear!" Thomas shouted, causing Hilda to slap him across the face.

"I will shoot the next one of you who speaks. Now move." She stood aside and motioned for them to walk out of the room. Peter exchanged a quick glance with the others and then, with a last glare at Hilda, led the way out of the room and down the hall. When they reached the door, Hilda called to the men on the other side, "I have the traitors. We're coming out." Taking a deep breath, Peter pulled the door open and walked out.

Waiting for them were two cars and almost a dozen Gestapo armed with machine guns. "Well this is quite a reception you've lined up for us," Victor said. "I'm flattered."

"Shut up," Hilda snapped as she pushed past them and motioned them off of the front porch. "Watch them," she said to the two nearest Gestapo. She then walked over to the cars and began talking to a man whom Peter assumed to be the commander of this particular goon squad.

Peter quickly did the math in his head. Franz probably wasn't going to be much help, and while he knew Evey would be more than willing to help in a fight, he didn't think she would be much help against the armed men waiting for them. That left Thomas, Victor, and himself. No matter how many different ways he figured it, he did not like the way the scenarios played themselves out. On the other hand, he wasn't too thrilled about the alternative either.

"I don't suppose you have a plan," Thomas whispered to Peter.

"I have several plans, each one crazier than the last, and all of them end badly for us."

"Just follow my lead," Victor said. He then side-stepped over to Evey and began to whisper in her ear.

"Follow his lead?" Thomas asked.

"Sure. I escaped the camps by following his lead. Besides, in order for any escape plan to work, we'll have to work together."

"Stop talking!" Hilda snapped as she approached them again. She then shoved Thomas, Evey and him toward the nearest car. Victor and Franz were shoved to the other car.

"Wait!" Evey said. "Where are you taking us?"

"You and your friends will be taken to one of the camps," Hilda said as she opened the car door.

"No!" Evey screamed. She then fell to the ground. "I can't go to the camps! Please don't send me there!"

"Fine," Hilda said. "I'll just shoot you here." She pulled out her pistol and pointed it at Evey.

"No!" Thomas shouted. He lunged forward, but one of the Gestapo grabbed him and forced him back against the car. Peter quickly glanced over at Victor, looking for some kind of cue. When he managed to get Victor's attention, the older man nodded. He then turned and punched the nearest guard in the face.

"NOW!" Peter shouted, resulting in three things happening at once. First, Evey sprang up and tackled Hilda causing her to drop the pistol. Second, Peter punched his guard in the face and dove for the pistol. Third, Thomas drove his knee into the gut of the man holding him against the car.

As Peter grabbed for the pistol, someone kicked him in the stomach, knocking him to the side. As his eyes focused again, he found himself staring down the barrel of the machine-gun of the guard he had just hit. He closed his eyes as a burst of gunfire filled the air. When nothing happened to him, he opened his eyes and saw that the man was now dead on the ground. He looked around and saw Thomas holding his guard's machine gun.

Turning his attention to the second car, Peter saw that Franz was being more helpful than he had thought, but he and Victor were struggling against the five men who had been guarding them. As he stood, he noticed three men running toward them. Thomas apparently saw them too, because he turned the machine-gun on them and opened fire. When he was finished, Thomas and Peter ran over to help Franz and Victor.

Peter pulled one of the men off of Victor and quickly punched him in the face. The guard's response was immediate—a hard right-cross that knocked Peter to the ground. He quickly jumped up and punched the guard in the stomach and then in the chin. He then grabbed the night-stick from the man's belt and, swinging it as hard as he could, hit the man over the head, bringing him to his knees. Another blow to the head knocked the guard unconscious. When he turned, he saw that the others had taken care of the other four men.

It was at that moment that Peter remembered Evey and he hurried over to the first car where she was kneeling next to Hilda's unconscious body.

"Are you OK?" he asked as he knelt beside her.

"I think so," she said, wiping tears from her eyes. "I've just never gotten into an actual fight with anyone before. It's kind of scary."

"It can be," Peter said with a smile. "Especially if the person you're fighting has a gun and you don't."

"That's true, but it makes the victory that much more satisfying," Thomas said as he walked over and offered his hands. Peter and Evey took them and he helped them to her feet as Victor and Franz walked over.

"Well, they're all taken care of," Victor said. "I suggest we get out of here before their reinforcements arrive."

"Agreed," Peter said. "How long do you think we have?"

"Two hours, three at the most."

"Then let's get going. Franz, are you coming with us?"

"I'm afraid not," Franz said. "I can do more good here in Germany than in France, so I'm going to Berlin to join the resistance there."

"Are you sure?" Evey asked. "The Gestapo must know your face by now."

"Yes," Franz said with a smile. "I plan to take on a more discrete position within the resistance. With any luck, I'll keep my face away from the Nazis and their cursed work camps."

"In that case, my friend," Victor said, offering him his hand, "good luck."

Then, following a quick exchange of hand-shakes and good-byes, they parted ways. Victor, Thomas, Peter, and Evey turned toward the west, while Franz headed to the north-east.


	8. Questions and Reasons

They were travelling for three days before Victor decided to stop for a full night. After finding a barn to spend the night in, he assigned each of them two hour watches and, taking the first for himself, told Peter, Thomas, and Evey to get some sleep. Peter, having gotten used to sleeping under such conditions fell asleep quickly. Thomas fell asleep about an hour later, but kept tossing and turning. Evey on the other hand couldn't fall asleep at all. She lay on the floor staring up toward the roof of the barn for a little over an hour before she decided she had had enough. She slowly stood up and, after making sure that Peter and Thomas were asleep, she made her way over toward the door where Victor was sitting, keeping watch.

"Couldn't sleep?" Victor asked as she approached, not taking his eyes off the road that ran near the barn.

"I'm not used to sleeping in these kinds of conditions," she said, sitting down next to him.

"Well, you'd better get used to it. You won't see another decent bed for a while."

"I know, but, for tonight, I guess I'd prefer to stay awake for a little while longer."

"You should get some sleep. Thomas will wake you for your watch."

"We traded shifts. I'll go after you and he'll go after me."

"Is that what you came over here to tell me? That the two of you had switched shifts?"

"No," Evey said with a smile. "I just thought you could use some company."

Victor turned to her and she could tell that he was about to say no, but when their eyes met, she saw something change in them. He sighed and smiled slightly. "I would like some company. Thank you."

They sat in silence for a few minutes before Evey said, "Can I ask you something?"

"You can, but I can't promise you an answer."

"Why did you save Peter?"

Victor looked at her in surprise. "I thought that you and he were friends?"

"We are," Evey said quickly. "I didn't mean it like that. I'm grateful. But you were ready to leave Thomas and me behind at Franz' house, saying that we would slow you down. I want to know what it was about Peter that made you want to save him from the camps and take him with you."

Victor was quiet for several minutes which caused Evey to wonder if she had crossed some kind of line. Finally, though, Victor answered.

"I helped him escape the camp because he saved my life. As for taking him to Paris, I don't know. I suppose I saw some hope for him in the resistance, even though he says he wants nothing to do with it. And I suppose he reminds me a little of myself when I was younger."

"Is that all?"

"I'm sorry that it's not deeper than that," Victor said barely containing the sarcasm. "I don't fully understand why I'm doing this for the three of you. Every instinct I have tells me I shouldn't trust anyone and yet I trust Peter in a way I have trusted very few people. And his trust for you and Thomas has rubbed off on me."

"That's Peter. He inspires something in people, something that they've never felt in themselves before."

"So do the Nazis," Victor said sharply. Evey simply nodded in agreement, thinking of Thomas, and they lapsed into silence again. After a few minutes, Victor broke the silence with a question of his own. "What did Peter inspire in you?"

"What makes you say that?" Evey asked surprised.

"The way you said that he inspires people. You sounded as though you were talking from experience."

Evey considered this and had to agree. "Before I met Peter, I never thought much about the Nazis and their purging of outside influences on the children of Germany. Peter introduced me to the world of the Swing Kids. That's how my rebellion started."

"What are the 'Swing Kids'?"

"They were—are—a group of teenagers that wear British clothes and sneak off to clubs to listen and dance to American swing music." Catching the skeptical look on Victor's face, she smiled. "I know it's not much of a rebellion, but it had the Gestapo scared. Any Swing Kid who got caught was forced to join the Hitler-Jugend—or was sent to the camps."

"Yes, Peter told me his story. It's not so different from the many stories I've heard. The Nazis seem to make a habit of finding rebellion everywhere they look."

"How did you get sent to the camp?" Evey asked.

Victor looked at her in surprise. "That's a little bold isn't it?"

"Maybe, but no bolder than you asking me what Peter inspired in me."

"Fair enough," Victor said with a smile. "I was the leader of the resistance in Czechoslovakia before the Nazis caught me. I don't know why they didn't just kill me, but I'm not going to question it. Since my face is practically engrained in the minds of all of the Nazis, I can't stay in Europe. That's why I need to get to Paris."

"Why Paris?" Evey asked

Victor was caught off-guard. "I just told you," he said.

"No, you told me why you need to get out of Europe. What you didn't tell me was why Paris is the only place you can go. Surely Hilda told the Gestapo that you were heading to Paris, so why are you still taking that risk? Why haven't you changed your plans?"

Victor was speechless. Evey realized that he had not even considered this development and the danger it placed them in. She knew that she had to make him change his plans, or at least explain why he hadn't. She pressed on. "Why can't we go to Belgium or The Netherlands? The resistance movements there will be more than happy to help you. Or if you insist on going to France, why can't we go to some other city? What's in Paris that's so important?"

Victor finally found his voice. "It's not a _what_. It's a _who._"

Evey suddenly understood. "What's her name?"

"Ilsa. Her name is Ilsa. She's…she's special."

Evey nodded. "Let me ask you something, Victor. If Peter had wanted to come back to Hamburg for me, would you have let him risk his life like that?"

Victor just stared out at the road. After a few minutes of silence, Evey said "I didn't think so."

They sat in silence for another hour before Victor stood and said, "Keep an eye on the road, and wake Thomas in two hours or so." Evey nodded and watched as Victor walked toward where Thomas and Peter were sleeping in the hay.


	9. Reconissance

When Peter awoke the next morning, he noticed that the others were in the corner locked in what looked like a heated debate. Evey and Victor seemed to be arguing about something while Thomas seemed to be trying to mediate—and failing.

"What's going on?" he asked as he approached the group.

"Evey insists that going to Paris is dangerous, while Viktor claims that it's the only way to get out of Europe," Thomas said

"And what do you think?"

"I don't know. Without knowing what's going on out there, I don't want to make a decision."

"Fair enough," Peter said. He then placed himself between Evey and Viktor and managed to quiet them. "Thomas has told me what's going on here, and I have a suggestion that may help resolve this."

"What is it?" Evey asked.

"One of us goes into the nearest town and finds out what's going on. We decide from there."

No one said anything at first. After a minute, Victor smiled. "I seem to be losing my touch. There was a time when that solution would have been obvious to me." Turning to Evey he asked, "Do you have any serious objections to this idea?"

"No," Evey said.

"Then we'd better get moving," Victor said. "We don't know when we will reach the next town."

They quickly left the barn and hurried down the road. They reached the nearest town three hours later.

Looking from the forest that overlooked the town, Victor assessed the situation. "Well, there doesn't seem to be any Gestapo here. Still, we should be cautious when we go into town."

"I don't think we should all go," Thomas said. "It increases the risk, especially if you join us."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that you are the biggest risk we have. You're a wanted man. It's likely that everyone in that town knows someone who knows your face. You should remain here."

Victor considered this for a moment. "You're right. In fact only one or two of you should go. I don't suppose any of you want to volunteer?"

Peter spoke up first. "I'll go."

"I'll join you," Thomas said.

"Fine," Victor said. "Evey, you stay with me. If you two leave now, you should be there in an hour. If you two aren't back by sundown, we're leaving without you. Is that understood?"

"Yes," Peter said. He and Thomas then began to make their way to the road. As they walked they lapsed into an uneasy silence. It was the first time they had been alone together since that night outside the Bismarck.

After a half hour of silence Thomas spoke up. "Tell me something, Peter. What made you decide that you didn't want to be an HJ anymore?"

Peter stopped and looked at him. "I never wanted to be an HJ. I was forced into it remember? You were the one who joined up willingly."

"Right," Thomas said. "What I meant was what made you decide that you couldn't knuckle under anymore?"

Peter paused for a moment before answering. He had avoided talking about it for years. He really didn't want to think about the horrors he had been directly a part of. Then again, Thomas had reported his own father to the Gestapo and he would probably never be seen again. Peter took a deep breath and began.

"The day before that night at the Bismarck, I was told by one of Herr Knopp's Lieutenants to deliver three packages. They were all the same shape and weight. I was given clear instructions not to look inside the packages. I delivered the first without incident, but at the second house the woman who answered the door asked me when her husband was coming home. I didn't have an answer so I gave her the package and left. As I was walking away, I heard a scream come from the house. It was a combination of agony and horror.

"After that I went to that park by the river. I sat on one of the benches with the third package for what seemed like hours. Finally I decided to defy orders and opened the package. It was a small wooden box. I opened it and inside…were ashes and a wedding ring. It was all that was left of someone's husband or wife. And I was the one who delivered them."

Thomas looked apologetic. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have brought it up."

Less than ten minutes later, they walked into the town. For the next two hours, they walked through the streets looking for any sign a threat from the Gestapo, such as wanted posters. Upon finding none, they began to discuss ways of finding the information they were seeking, but Peter couldn't help but feel as though they were being watched.

"I think the first thing we should do is find a newspaper," Thomas said. "That's probably the simplest way to find out what's been happening."

"Do you have any money?" Peter asked.

"No, I don't. That would be a problem, wouldn't it?"

Peter nodded. "I guess we'll have to ask somebody what's been going on."

Thomas nodded his agreement and started looking around for someone to ask. Finally he stopped a young woman. "Excuse me ma'am. My friend and I have been travelling through the country side for several weeks and haven't had a chance to hear any news. Could you please tell us what's been happening with the war?"

"Certainly," she replied gleefully. "I suppose you know that the Netherlands fell earlier this month?"

"Yes," Peter said. "I remember very little from that night."

Thomas shot him a look and then turned back to the woman. "We heard about that. We're really more interested in what's been happening in the last couple of days."

"Well, Belgium fell earlier this week. It's only a matter of time before France and Britain fall as well."

Peter and Thomas exchanged glances. This was both good and bad news. It meant that once they got to France, they were free and clear—for now. They might be able to reach Paris before the Nazis. Hell, if Britain and France combined forces, they might be able to repel the Nazis completely.

"Is something wrong?" the woman asked.

"No," Peter said. "Things seem to be going well."

"Yes, thank you," Thomas said. "We'll let you go about your business, then." The young woman nodded and walked away. Thomas then turned to Peter. "Well we got what we wanted. Let's get the hell out of here."

"I agree. This place is making me nervous. I can't help but feel like we're being watched."

"I know the feeling," Thomas said taking a long look around the square. "We should get back. It's going to be dark soon. We don't want to get left behind."

Peter nodded in agreement. Then the two of them turned and headed for the road they had come in on.

Less than an hour later, they were explaining what they had learned to Victor and Evey. "It looks like Paris is our only option, then," Victor said, looking pointedly at Evey, who simply nodded in agreement. "If I'm not mistaken," he continued, "we are less than three days from the border. Once we are in France, it will take us another week or so to reach Paris, but the going will be much easier."

"When do we start out?" Peter asked.

"Right now," Victor replied. "We'll travel for another hour or two, and then rest. After that, it will be an almost non-stop push to the border. Once in France we will rest again. Are you ready?"

"Not really," Thomas said. "But I don't foresee being anymore ready any time in the immediate future, so let's go." Peter and Evey nodded their assent.

"Very well," Victor said. "Let's go."


	10. The Road to Paris

Victor's plan of a non-stop push to the French border took more of a toll on the small group of fugitives than any of them had anticipated. On their third night, when Victor finally declared that they could rest for a night, it took every fiber of Peter's being not to hug him. One glance at Thomas and Evey told Peter that they were just as relieved as he was.

They soon found a cave in which they could rest. It was damp and cold and uncomfortable in lots of other ways, but given how tired the three of them were, no one complained. Peter, Evey, and Thomas slept while Victor kept watch.

The next morning, Peter was shaken awake by an enthusiastic Victor. "What is it?" Peter asked groggily.

"I was wrong," Victor said, beaming like a child on Christmas morning.

"What do you mean?" Peter heard Thomas grumble from a few feet away.

"I was wrong about how long it would take us to get to France. We crossed the border yesterday. We've been in France for a day and a half."

"How do you know?" Evey asked. She also sounded tired, but she now sounded interested.

"I went out to forage for food and I ran into a hunter. He was so surprised that he cried out—in French. I quickly explained that I was a traveler who had lost my way and asked how far the German border was. He told me that it was a day's walk from here." He paused as the others allowed the news to sink in. "We've made it," he said looking from Peter to the others. "We're free."

The news had a mixed effect on Peter. Knowing that he had beaten the odds and escaped from the Nazis filled him with a renewed hope and lifted the ever present fear of being recaptured, but as he thought about what his making it to France truly meant, that he would likely have to live the rest of his life never knowing the fate of his family, an overwhelming sadness filled him.

"Are you okay?" Victor asked Peter.

Peter nodded and forced a smile. "Just letting it sink in, I guess." Victor nodded and clapped Peter on the shoulder.

"So what now?" Thomas asked.

"Now," Victor said as he stood, "we make for Paris. The journey from here on in will be a little easier, but from what the man told me, the Nazis are likely to hit the Allied lines soon. I'd like to be in Paris before that if it is at all possible."

"Well, let's go," Evey said. "I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm looking forward to sleeping in a bed again."

With that, the four of them set out toward Paris. The journey passed very quickly from what Peter could remember. They stopped in many towns and met up with several people who were familiar with Victor and his work against the Nazis. These stops also allowed Peter, Thomas, and Evey to practice their French.

Not all of the news they heard was good, however. A little over a week after they entered France, the news reached them that the Allied line had been broken. The British army had retreated back across the channel, and the French forces had surrendered. There was now nothing standing between Paris and the Nazi army. After this, Victor became very quiet and short-tempered. He pushed Peter, Evey, and Thomas a little harder each day, but they didn't complain, mostly because they wanted to reach Paris as quickly as Victor did, now that it was only a matter of time before it fell to the Nazis.

It was another week before they reached Paris. That night was one that Peter would never forget. It started innocently enough, with the four of them through the woods. The closer they got to Paris, the longer Victor had pushed them each day, and the more he had encouraged travelling through the woods, both to save time and to limit the risk of being seen by anyone they would rather avoid. The sun had set two hours earlier, but they had a full moon to travel by. They were further motivated by the fact that they could see the lights of Paris just a few miles away.

Suddenly they heard voices up ahead. They quietly began to sneak forward and soon came to the edge of a clearing. Sitting in the middle of the clearing was a small group of German soldiers, roughly four or five, sitting around a small campfire.

"These guys are part of the forward guard," Thomas whispered. "The rest of the German army is probably a day out. They'll be in Paris by sun down tomorrow."

Victor swore under his breath. "To come this far, only to be blocked at the last steps," he said, his voice breaking slightly.

"Can't we sneak around them?" Peter asked.

"Probably," Thomas said. "We should head back a little ways and then try to sneak around. You know, give them a wide berth. And be careful where you step. We don't need them coming after us. And we'll have to be extra careful. There's likely more of these guys out here."

The others nodded (at least Peter assumed that they did) and they started back. They hadn't gone five steps however before the snap of a twig echoed through the forest.

Peter froze. For a minute, he hoped against hope that the Nazis hadn't heard them, but a series of murmuring voices behind him told him otherwise. In a panic, he looked to his right at Thomas who met his gaze with a look of equal panic. He turned to his left and met Victor's gaze as leaves began to rustle, telling him that the soldiers had entered the forest.

He quickly sidestepped to hide behind a tree. He saw Victor, Evey, and Thomas do the same. He began to pray that the soldiers would turn back to their fire, but the shadow of a machine gun poking around the tree told him otherwise. He closed his eyes and said a quick prayer for his mother, Willi, Thomas, and Evey.

A scuffle to his left stirred him from his thoughts. Turning he saw the outlines of Thomas and another soldier struggling in the moonlight. The machine gun next to his head disappeared, and Peter knew what he had to do. He jumped out from behind the tree and punched the soldier in the back of the head.

"Victor, Evey, run!" he called as he hit the soldier again, knocking him to the ground. A flurry of rustling leaves told him they were moving. A half instant later a burst of machine gun fire erupted through the forest. After delivering a kick to the downed soldier's head, knocking him out, Peter ran toward the third soldier.

He hit the soldier with such force that the two of them fell to the ground. Peter quickly recovered and wrestled the guard's machine gun from him, then proceeded to punch him in the side of the head. The guard slumped over, unconscious.

Peter stood and turned around and found himself face-to-face with a fourth soldier. This one already had his machine gun pointed at him, and was too far away of Peter to make any sort of effort at defending himself. Not knowing what else to do, he raised his hands.

Suddenly a shot rang out. The guard stumbled and fell over. Standing behind him was Thomas, holding a smoking pistol. "You're welcome," the blonde said with a smirk as he walked over to Peter. "Now let's get out of here before they—"He was cut off as a burst of machine gun fire ripped into his body. He stumbled forward and fell into Peter's arms. Over his friend's shoulder, Peter saw that the man Thomas had shot hadn't been killed. As he raised his gun for another burst, Peter took the pistol from Thomas and, letting his friend fall, emptied the remainder of the bullets into the soldier's body.

Sure that the soldier was dead now, Peter threw the gun aside and turned to his friend. "Thomas," he whispered as he rolled him over. A cough told Peter that Thomas was still alive, but only just. "Thomas, stay with me," he begged, though somewhere in his mind he knew it was futile.

Thomas smiled. "I was actually looking forward to Paris," he said, weakly.

"Don't talk like that," Peter begged his friend as he held him.

"It had to be this way, Peter," Thomas said. "I've done too much wrong to make any of it right. I sold out my father. I tried to kill you. I did kill Arvid."

"No you didn't," Peter said, fighting back tears. "Arvid committed suicide."

"But I drove him to it. And don't try to deny it either. We both know why he did it."

Peter didn't say anything for a minute. Then he spoke up. "You did make some of it right. You helped Evey and Victor escape. You saved my life just now. That's got to count for something, right?"

"Maybe," Thomas said, though his voice was clearly distant. "Maybe it was just enough." His eyes locked into Peter's and he grinned. Then he began to sing: "It don't mean a thing if it ain't got that swing."

Peter grinned a little too. "Swing heil, Thomas," he said as his friend's eyes closed for the last time.

Peter held Thomas' body for a minute longer before standing and hurrying after Victor and Evey.


End file.
